Thorn Valley
by Archer of Ecclesia
Summary: 'The journey would be long and grueling, but the tornadoes were growing more frequent. They had no choice but to head to Thorn Valley...' Yeah, this is been done over and over, but what the heck. Will be darker and gorier in later chapters. Horror since Secret of Nimh terrified me as a kid.
1. Chapter 1

**A:N: Alright, just had to discard my other copy of this for a stupid line break. Anyway...**

** Assume that the abomination known as Nimh 2 never ever ever happened.**

** Also, I know that this has been overdone over and over again, but I like my works and here's my personal take on it, considering how dark I am.**

** There will be character deaths, even one of Brisby's children and possibly a character you met and loved in the book and movie (not being specific for fear of giving away spoilers). You have been warned. This'll likely be my longest story so far.**

** Disclaimer: Don Bluth, I love your works! Sadly, I don't own this.**

A howling wind roared through the night, sending the trees into fits of moaning and crackling. A vicious clap of thunder awoke the residents of a small concrete block, all five mice and a shrew.

The female shrew, extremely hefty and loud-mouthed, startled out of her bed and toppled onto the floor of Brisby's bedroom. Mrs. Brisby had taken in Helga Shrew, known as Auntie Shrew to her kids, after NIMH's workers flooded the rats out of the rosebush.

Helga still never trusted the rats, though she knew that they and done some form of good for Brisby by pulling her home out of the mud, whilst the shrew was still inside.

The shrew did owe them her life, so the least she could do was hope to get along with them.

Brisby had not been sleeping, but rather bouncing around the house, adjusting this and straightening the guest bedspread (Helga was her aunt, so Brisby, loving her as her mother, allowed the older rodent to have the better bed for her terrible back).

Brisby's ears flattened against her head, a slight shriek of fear coming from her tiny lungs, as she ducked her head between her arms, her shawl nearly sliding off her shoulders.

_These storms are getting worse_, she thought to herself.

It was early in the spring. And spring brought thunderstorms and high winds. High winds, Mr. Ages had said, brought two different winds; hot and cold. When the two temperatures mixed, they created the unholy terrors known as tornadoes.

So many rats and mice alike had been lost in those swirling masses of wind...

Cynthia was the first to come scuttling out of her room that she shared with Teresa, who trailed after her.

Cynthia seized after her mother, who had jumped when she saw the bolt of fur blur after her.

"Mo-mommy!" Cynthia shrieked.

Teresa, once she realized that her mohter had Cynthia in her arms and was calming the younger mouse down, halted in her tracks, soon proceeding to gently hover in the corner of the room, waiting patiently for her mother to calm Cynthia down.

Martin soon came out, shoving his blanket aside, his fur tousled. He, too, was clearly having trouble sleeping, though he claimed he was fearless. His nightmares had been growing worse since the rats had left, though he refused to admit so.

And Timothy, knowing that he was missing out of something, soon fumbled out of his own room, his oversized t-shirt slowly becoming smaller and smaller on his growing body.

It had been two years since the rats had left, and the children were finally growing of the age to head to Thorn Valley.

Yet Auntie Shrew! Who would take care of her when the mice were gone? She was _far _too old to make the journey to a valley, which was bordered by colossal mountains on all four sides!

"You know, my dear..." Brisby turned to se the shrew with tear-matted fur. She was clutching a now-sleeping Cynthia to her chest, her back barely supporting the growing child. "I think it truly is time for you to go..."

Helga stood on all three of her legs, her knotted wooden cane supporting the majority of her upper body. She still enunciated each word carefully, her jaw seeming to be the only bone in her body that didn't ache anymore. "I can watch after myself, you know. You and your children are getting to large for this house."

Cynthia stirred in Brisby's arms. "Auntie... She's barely past her toddler years! Oh, think of what all could happen!"

"Now, listen to me, Elizabeth! She is nearly seven and she is without a doubt old enough to get past a pile of rocks!" Helga scolded.

Mrs. Brisby shuddered slightly as Cynthia gradually awoke from her nap. She rubbed her left eye with a sleepy fist and yawned. "Mommy, we can go... I'm big enough..."

Elizabeth slowly rose her gaze to her aunt, then lowered it back to Cynthia, who was squirming out of her mother's grip. Elizabeth sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly, as she turned to her other children, all three of whom had been huddled in the corner during the argument, discussing something with their backs turned to their mother, sharp daggers occasionally being shot at the shrew or their mother.

"Children, pack your things. We leave for Thorn Valley as soon as the storm passes over," Brisby demanded as she adjusted her shawl, clutching the red ruby necklace around her throat.

Justin told her to come to Thorn Valley whenever she was ready.

But Justin was gone.

Mr. Ages had came by her house right before he departed for Thorn Valley. He said that he and the others were departing for Thorn Valley. He also said that he would try to stay behind, but his left leg as well as his lower left arm no longer cooperated with his brain.

When NIMH came, they sprayed a toxin into the rosebush hole, and he had gradually been paralyzed from the long-term effects.

Mr. Ages could not move shortly after being in the rat hole for a few minutes, and Justin had came through and saved him.

But Nicodemus's two assistants had been trapped inside the rat hole.

He went back inside to try and save them, but he died.

He died.

Justin was gone.

The wind began to roar outside once more, causing the door to fly open. Rain assaulted the rodents, even though the door was upstairs and around a slight bend.

Brisby swore she heard something on the wind.

"_Go... To the rats,_" the Great Owl was no longer around the farm. His tree had fallen, and as far as Elizabeth knew, there was no way it could be him.

Martin, seeing that no one else had even budged, rushed up the stairs and slammed the door shut. His tail twitched irately as he turned around to face his family. "No, we get moving _now_." He barked. The child had hit his maturity age _hard_, his voice deepened and his height easily topping his father's by a few centimeters.

Elizabeth sighed. "Kids, go get your stuff. We're leaving. Now," Brisby gave her jewel a slight squeeze.

Now... they only had to find the pathway behind her house and into the woods.

Off in the distance, a hungry cat yowled and stretched its tense muscles. Tonight would be a good night for a hunt, with all the mice scrambling out of their holes, lest they be drowned out.

** Yeah, cliffy! I have no idea how long this is going to be. You all decide. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A:N: Hi, people! This chapter is dedicated to the guest who reviewed this story, and to my awesome friend, Jenna! Love you, sister! **

** Disclaimer: I do not own. If I was Don Bluth, and torture was legal... bad things would happen to Nimh 2. Many bad things.**

Chapter Two

Courage

The goodbyes had been brief and tearful. Mrs. Brisby was shuddering with her sobs as Helga ushered her out of the concrete block; if it had been up to her, she would never leave, and would just send off the children once Martin and Teresa were old enough – and mature enough – to get Timmy and Cynthia safely to Thorn Valley.

Yet they were only children, and no matter how much Elizabeth argued, Helga was right. The children were growing, and Elizabeth could barely feed Martin alone, who's stomach was growing deeper than the Great Owl's empty tree.

If the tree had still been standing, that was.

So the family of five set off. Mrs. Brisby's load had been kept light; only her red shawl, the stone, and her thick quilt Johnathan had made for her.

Martin decided that he only needed a slingshot for hunting with, in case they ran into any trouble. Teresa's thoughts had been the same, as she took a sharpened twig with her, careful not to poke any holes in her dress.

Timothy and Cynthia, on the other hand, decided that proper tools were necessary. Timothy had a hollowed-out acorn shell that he used as a cup strapped to his back by a thin blade of grass, with bits of almond stuffed between the shell and his shirt. There was also an old human device stuck between his teeth, something that tasted metallic and had a few grapes drawn on it. This improvised as a Frisbee for him and Cynthia when they grew bored.

Cynthia's doll that Auntie Shrew had crafted for her was in her right fist, a new bow in her left, and a few cherry stems in between her teeth served as a snack for later.

The first order of business was to get to the old rosebush hole. Mr. Ages had told Mrs. Brisby that she was to go straight there when they moved to Thorn Valley.

Mrs. Brisby had quickly rushed to the old rose bush on her own. She left the children playing around in the fields, where she told them to stay unless they heard something or saw Dragon.

Within a few feet of the old entryway, he had left her a crude map drawn in charcoal and a small satchel of leather that contained food enough for three days, if the mice distributed it evenly and _weren't greedy _(that last quote had been furiously scribbled onto the bottom of a note with bold letters, a demand that was directed at Martin).

Elizabeth then made a mad dash back to her kids. The empty halls were surreal reminders of her cruelly short time with Justin, Nicodemus, Brutus... all of the rats and one mouse who had known her husband.

Yet, when she heard her offsprings' laughter in the distance, she whipped herself up onto her hind legs and listened at their sweet sounds of happiness.

She remembered when she was a child, and the last time she had felt like a child.

That was when she had been standing before Nicodemus's portal to the past, when she was so awestruck she recalled what innocence truly was.

A yowl off in the distance shook her out of her trance, and the field mouse scurried the remainder of the way to her kids.

After that, Elizabeth only had the map to look at.

First, she found where the lee of the stone was. Then, she found the old rosebush a few centimeters to the right. Above the concrete block were the woods, as well as the path that the rats had taken.

In the very center of the map, commanding all attention, perched the Great Owl's home. Thorn Valley was almost directly to the left of the old oak, yet the two were separated by a thick forest that the rats had donned 'Howling Trees' after the great storms that the area was known for.

And, upon thinking of storms, a fat raindrop plopped square onto Mrs. Brisby's nose, startling her as she studied the map.

"Oh!" She nearly flew several feet back in surprise, but after the initial wetness set in, she only sighed. "Children, come along now! We have to get to the forest before we rest. Mr. Ages insisted that the plains aren't safe for us."

The three younger children groaned in complaint, and Teresa only shrugged. The Brisby's were currently about an hour's journey away from the concrete block, and if Elizabeth stood to where her legs were fully extended and her tail balanced her, she could see the dark woods off in the distance.

Why the older mouse had said the plains weren't safe, Elizabeth didn't know, nor did she care to find out. Anyway, the woods were only about a forty-five minute walk away, dotted with rocks that could be used to hide under if necessary.

Only when Elizabeth shook herself dry and began to hurry the kids along under a rock did Mr. Ages' words ring within her skull once more.

She involuntarily clutched her necklace and swallowed nervously, glancing around.

The five mice were atop a hill, rising above the other areas of the farm, giving them a view of Mr. Fitzgibbon's house. Elizabeth sniffed the air; something smelled familiar.

It was no predator of an animal form, but rather a killer that made her fur stand on end.

Justin had only briefly been able to describe electricity to Mrs. Brisby, but she would never forget of her first time encountering it.

She had been on her way to Nicodemus's room when she was nearly shocked by a loose wire, and the smoking scent had invaded her nose and haunted her memories ever since she had nearly been scorched.

Yet Elizabeth flattened her ears against her head. There was no way to get electricity up here, as the nearest human area was miles away.

That was when a boom of thunder nearly split the mouse's skull in half from the noise and a bolt of light flashed down from the sky.

The lightning came within only a few feet of Elizabeth's feet, Cynthia's screaming awakening her from her fearful state.

"Children, under the rocks! Now!" Elizabeth never did find out what it felt like to be electrocuted, but she recalled Nicodemus's story. Electricity never did hurt, yet it was mind-numbingly painful in its own certain way.

Yet when the wicked bolt of lightning flashed down from the sky once more and nearly caught Mrs. Brisby's neck under its attack, she shrieked in pain as the lightning's heat assaulted her tiny body. She didn't even have to touch it to know that she would have been burned alive had it actually struck her.

Elizabeth screamed once more as she dashed after her children, finally hiding under the protective overhang of the rock. She drew in a shuddering breath as the wind whorled around her, howling in her ears and nearly deafening her in the process. She threw her arms over her head and prayed that this would all blow over soon...

The wind grew louder, and in the distance...

"MOOMMMY! Help me!"

"Cynthia!" Elizabeth screamed.

**A:N: Cliffy! Yay!**


End file.
